Twenty Eight Days
by totheedgeofthesea
Summary: Nick is forced into rehab for his gambling and drinking addiction. Upon meeting a new friend can Nick make this 28 days work or will he come out the same old Nick. I DO NOT OWN ANY LYRICS USED THROUGHOUT THE STORY NOR DO I OWN LEFT4DEAD! This story is a repost, it has been rewritten and edited.
1. Chapter 1

Nick ducked as a vase came surging in his on the path of his forehead. He held his hands up in front of his already bruised and bleeding face. A face that was once soiled in blemishes, but that was ages ago. The now thirty five year old looked worn and tired. But he kept going and that is exactly what got him where he is. He heard the glass connect with the wall behind him and he brought his hands back down and stared with wide eyes at his attacker.

He was currently pressed tight against a wall, a stained wall but a wall none the less and despite the problem in front of him all Nick could think about was how much his suit cost and how he prayed the blood from his lips and nose didn't stain it. He was brought back to reality when a fist connected with his gut. His arms coming up to wrap around himself, as he buckled over and coughed, the air pulled from him in one swift movement.

Nick had just gambled away the last of his and his girlfriend's rent money and suffice it to say Sheryl was more than pissed. She had waited up till four in the morning for Nick to come home. She was armed and ready with a crystal azure $500 vase in hand when he came walking in and despite all the talking down she did she soared it at his head the minute she saw him.

"What the fuck is your problem!" He finally got a breath. She was panting heavily in front of him. Her shoulders heaving as she glared daggers in his direction. Her once soft eyes were now hard and dark. Her lips trembled as she spoke, the red lipstick she had applied earlier the day before smudged slightly at the corners.

"You're fucking addicted Nick! All of our rent money is gone! This is the fifth time this year that we've had to scrape by. Look at this apartment, do you really think it's smart to be practically giving away all the money we owe on it! I can't support us both!" Her voice had cracked at the end. She was tired, so incredibly tired. Nick had promised her he would stop two months ago. But here they were back in the same situation and she had had enough.

"Sheryl baby, listen I can go get it back." Nick was so obviously out of his damn mind. He was drunk when he had come in but the sudden shock to his system had brought his buzz down severely and he was now fully aware of what was happening and how close his lover was to snapping his thick neck. He scoffed, the corners of his lip inching up in a sly smirk 'I'd like to see her try' he thought to himself.

"How are you going to get it back Nick, huh, How?" She fell to the ground, her limbs shaking from exasperation. She looked up at him, her caramel eyes meeting his emerald ones. "I can't do this anymore Nick. You are so unstable. You need help. "She found the strength to stand slowly. She turned and walked.

"What do you mean help?" He called after her; he was thoroughly confused at what she meant. Surely she didn't mean rehab. He followed after her. In their bedroom she had already packed her things, well what was left after they had had to sell all of her jewelry and finer things to scrape up some rent money after Nick's last big loss. She had shoved her clothes and shoes into two large duffel bags and slung one of her shoulder and held the other loosely in her hand.

"I'm leaving Nick; I've called my brother to drive you tomorrow." She spoke as she walked through the hall way and to the front door. She looked back at him one last time and shook her head. "Nick, please go."

He was still very much confused, where was he going? He hissed as his head began to throb, and blindly made his way into the kitchen to fish out a bottle of scotch from a cupboard, pouring the prosperous liquid into a clear Waterford glass and downing it in one large gulp. His teeth clashed as he felt his eyes blur over and he stumbled back for a moment before catching hold of the counter behind him and steadying himself

He shoved his jacket off, forgetting its value and stumbled down deeper into the apartment towards the bedroom once more, popping the buttons on his beryl shirt as he went pushing it from his shoulders as he fell to the bed face first. He groaned as his temples pulsed he could feel his skin crawling as a hangover already began settling in before he passed out.

When Nick woke up, the sun was shining directly into his eyes. He gasped and cupped the one side of his head with his free hand as his other was trapped between him and the mattress. His mouth was dry as a cotton ball, though a puddle of drool soaked into the blankets below him as he slowly but surely clambered up to his knees. His stomach lurched at the sudden smell of brewing coffee. "Sheryl!" His voice was rasped and he could feel the acid bubbling up his throat as he raced for the bathroom just barely making it before he emptied his stomachs contents into the porcelain bowl.

"Here." He heard heavy footsteps from behind him before a tall glass of water was shoved in front of his lips. He looked up slowly finding a very obese very pale young man. He snarled to himself. Sheryl's brother Donavon was possibly the most annoying person he had ever met in his thirty five years of living. He was nearly thirty and still lived with their parents, jobless and as dumb as an ax. But he was strong and Nick had no intention of giving him a hard time taking him where ever he was going. Hopefully to breakfast, nothing sounded better to Nick after throwing up then a nice hot freshly brewed cup of coffee and a stack of toast. But all they had in the house was some old coffee that no longer carried any flavor, any good flavor at least and some moldy bread they had stashed away a while back when Nick sold all their fresh food to a florist down the street for all the dollar bills in her register.

"Shower up let's get going we are already running late." Donavon's voice was rough as he stalked from the room. Nick's nose came up in a scrunch as he stood up slowly, flushing his bile down the toilet. He looked in the mirror. His eyes were red and puffed. He had a nice sized black and blue fist print growing on the side of his cheek. His nose was pink, dried blood crusted underneath his nostrils. His lip was split down the middle. His gaze traveled further down, a large dark mark was forming right in the middle of his well carved stomach.

He sighed to himself and turned on the faucet of the sink below him, he began washing himself there. His teeth and face first. Then moved on to the shower where he soaked in for about thirty minutes before he was rushed, careful not to touch his lip or press to hard near his eye. From the bathroom and a pair of clothes were shoved in his arms.

Not one of his best suits but it would do. Speaking of, he looked around his room only finding the shirt from the night before disposed on the floor right at the beds side. "Well fuck" He could already tell this was going to be a horrid day.

After finding his jacket in the kitchen and having a quick cup of black coffee, which only made the ache in Nick's stomach worse, he guessed they weren't stopping for breakfast. The two men were finally off, speeding down the road. Silence in the air, not awkward for Nick at all. As his head already hurt from the light he didn't need to add the other man's voice to the mix of a hangover.

The road was rather boring, nothing but dessert as they drove through Nevada. Nick had slept most of the way and was unable to see where he was being led. When he opened his eyes he looked up at a large colorful sign. "Freedom Rehab" he rolled his eyes before it hit him. "Rehab!?" He screamed, the larger man next to him not flinching a bit as he pulled up next to the entrance. Where a group of men and women were hovered in a circle singing what loosely reminded Nick of some sort of hymn they sang in those churches he had heard about.

"I am not going to rehab." His thick Northern accent that had never failed him was husked.

"Well it's this one or we ship you back to Connecticut with your family." Donavon's voice trudged through Nick's ears. Nick shivered at the thought of being forced back to his fatherless family up north east and exited the car slowly. His bags at his feet as Donavon drove off.


	2. Day One

Nick laid in his bed. His hands were crossed behind his head as he stared at the popcorn ceiling above him. He closed his eyes and remembered the day before ;How he had been shoved through the glass doors by an elderly women who was five feet shorter than him and probably two hundred pounds heavier. He had been stripped down and searched, showered and ordered around. He remembered walking the ground with the older woman. "You are to be in bed by eleven o'clock. There is to be no sexual intercourse while you are in the building. You have to participate in at least three group sessions a week, weekends are your own time that must be spent on the grounds. "

Nick kept his eyes ahead of him, his eyelids heavy, not an ounce of care made its appearance to Nicks features.. Though he had seen some of the other patients and he was sure there would be no sex for him period, that frustrated him a little but not enough to show the woman. He recalled meeting his new roommate. He was a younger man with bright blond hair, bright green eyes and jagged teeth. If the boy hadn't smiled Nick would have thought him rather handsome and would have double thought his decision to not have sex while he was here. The gender of his partner didn't matter to Nick, he was never the one giving anything and as long as the other had a pretty face and a gorgeous smile he was up for anything.

The clicking of the clock above their door just outside sounded like someone was hammering the walls of his skull. He winced with each _tick, tick, tick_, and covered his ears in an attempt to block out the noise. His roommate, a heroin addict he had learned early on that day was currently unwrapping rather loudly a minuscule piece of chocolate. It only added to the amount of noise occupying his mind. He rolled over taking the pillow with him; he needed a drink, bad. His hands had already began to shake softly under his pillow as he thought about the sickly sweet burn of the liquid as it rolled smoothly down his throat. He could still taste its bitterness and his lips smacked uncontrollably. There was nothing better than a glass of scotch in one hand while his dominant hand rolled the lucky dice. He began to hear loud music playing, "What" he spoke out loud but got no answer as his eye lids fluttered, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. Nick could feel his mind fading from this current time to another.

"She's my sweet little thing, she's my pride and joy, she's my sweet little baby I'm her little lover boy" The smooth guitar could be heard above all other people. Nick laughed loud as he rolled the dice, he loved the way they felt in his palm, heavy but weightless all at once. Black and white had become his two favorite colors. There was a glass of scotch in his free hand as he lent over the table throwing his fist in the air as they landed. He nodded, looking around at all the people. Nick was too drunk to notice that he hadn't really done anything to boast about. Women and men around him shook their heads as they left from the table, leaving a very intoxicate Nicholas alone to reach for the dice once more, his fingers shaking heavily from adrenaline.

Nick shook his head, back to reality. There was no heavy blues playing in his room, he had no glass of scotch and the dice didn't rest in the palms of his hand. He sat up quickly, scratching his nose as he looked around the room eerily dark. He shoved the cotton blanket from his hips, and turned his body, feet on the cold tiled floor as he peered out of the window. It was gusty, the wind was pushing and pulling the branches of a nearby tree left and right and back and forth. He stood up slowly and inched towards the door.

As he touched the door knob, his fingers firm he shivered,_ "_Hey baby, I have to tell you something."

Nick was pulled back into the now. He shook his head "What did you say?" He didn't know who he was talking to; the voice he had heard was his. He turned the knob slowly as to not make any noise.

"What do you mean we lost all our money? How are we going to pay the rent Nick?"

Nicks hands shot to his head once more, the door had opened, and a bright light threatened to burn Nick's eyes from their sockets. Sheryl's screaming reverberated around in his head as he took a step forward.

"What are you doing?" He heard his roommate from behind him and turned around swiftly, but smoothly was not an option as the older man stumbled to the floor, landing on his hands and knees.

He groaned and kicked the door shut; he heard the soft clicking of the clock in his head once more and growled. "I was just...going for a walk." The boy in the bed could see Nick's shivering body and he jumped up to help the thirty five year old back in bed but was shoved away as Nick got to his feet.

"I don't need your help, go back to bed kid." Nick's words held no emotion as he walked into the bathroom they shared. He didn't bother turning on the light. He needed alcohol. He pushed through his bathroom supplies kept in a small black bag; he felt the familiar smoothness of his cards and pulled them free.

He found himself sitting on the floor against the door to keep any annoying intruders out, closing his eyes he shuffled the deck in his hands and moaned at the sound. His skin burned, his eyes ached but he was calm. He ran his fingers over the edges of each card as he counted them in his head slowly.

"1...2...3...4...5...6..." A smile had curved onto his lips as he slowly fell asleep somewhere between forty five and fifty two.

Nick woke to a soft knocking at the bathroom door. "Hello, Nick, you okay in there!" The kid's voice could be heard on the other side and Nick gargled something along the lines of

"Go away." and "Stop that fucking knocking." But his words went ignored as with incredible strength the door was pushed open and he was slid across the cold bathroom floor.

"I have to piss, it's morning." Nick put one hand up signaling the kid to stop talking as he slowly got up, his hands slipping over the cards as they had been scattered around the floor some time in his fit of slumber, his face planting against the cold tile, he growled and pushed back up.

"Go away; I'll be out in a moment." The kid walked out a look of anger pain from the urine building in his bladder and annoyance at his new roommate, and Nick slammed the door shut behind him as he felt the familiar feeling in his gut before he reached the toilet and violently dry heaved. He needed to get something in his stomach. He reached the sink and cupped his hands under the running water, sucking up every drop into his cottoned mouth before rinsing his face off and collecting the cards from the floor and stuffing them back in their place.

The second he exited the bathroom he was pushed aside by a wiggling boy. He never did catch his name or age, but he looked about eighteen. Nick shook his head_ 'Eighteen and addicted to heroin. Where did his parents go wrong?'_But Nick had no place to talk. Look where he had been since he was fourteen and he was just now forced to get help.

Nick had cleaned himself up, changed his clothes and brushed back his hair. He was not going to be seen looking a mess out there. He made his way from the room and down the hall; he could already hear a mass amount of chanting and singing and rolled his eyes. "I will have no part of that," he spoke.

As he walked down the winding stairs, he could see them all, gathered in two large groups of all different types of people ;Women and men, teenagers and adults. They had their arms around each other's shoulders in one group and in the other they all had a tight grip on one another's hands. His fingers twitched at the thought of a stranger gripping him so tightly. Though he'd done much more with strangers that surpassed holding hands and he smirked at the thought.

He needed to find someone who could bum him a cigarette. He passed through the two large groups rudely pushing between them and out a pair of double doors leading into a forested back yard of sorts. A large deck wound around the building and he jogged down their stairs. He looked around him.

One man stood off to the side, scratching at his already raw neck and reading a book. Nick cocked his head to the side to glance at the title _" The Thief"_by Clive Cussler

A woman sat a step away painting what seemed to be a horrible rendition of the forest in front of them.

Various others stood around chatting or minding their own business. Many of them picking at a part of their body, or chewing insistently at gum or their own lips and gums.

He found a young man with a cigarette stuck behind his ear, another between his lips. "I don't know how much money I have in my bank account, but it's all yours if I can have that cigarette behind your ear." Nick spoke to him. The man looked up and nodded. He was aged, his eyes had dark black bags underneath them and despite his eyes being a rather nice shade of green they were blank and empty. "Thanks."

Nick spotted a younger man far off, a very ratty looking ball cap rested on a head of brown curls, Nick's eyes traveled down the others body. Lighting the cigarette, he held his hand around the tip to guard any free blowing wind. Closing his eyes and tilting his head back to enjoy the burn in his lungs before allowing the smoke to float from between his lips.

The boy turned around, crystal teeth gleaming,good time plastered on his face as he failed to catch the ball, watching it land at the feet of one very dreary Nick.

With the cigarette hanging from his lips Nick stopped the ball with his foot. As the younger male made his way over, Nick kicked the ball in his direction and watched it tumble away. "Hey, Thanks!" The younger man hollered at Nick waving his hand. Nick ignored the sentiment and pulled the cigarette from between his lips to push another cloud of smoke from his mouth.


End file.
